Deana gave a small thumbs-up signal, then placed the handset down.
‘You’re on. Good luck, pet. Can I give you a hand up those stairs with that cake? And I’ll make a fresh pot of tea and coffee and bring them up after, shall I? I assume you’ve brought the cake and scones to try, they’re not just for looking at?’
‘Yes, that was the idea. Thanks, Deana, that would be lovely. Perhaps if you can take these scones, I’ll manage the cake.’ She didn’t want any accidents at the last.
‘Of course.’
Ellie sensed that she had someone on her side. Back across the courtyard they headed up the stone tower, Deana first, to the second-floor study again. Ellie took each step cautiously. She was glad of the black polo neck she’d popped on under the grey suit, and the cerise-pink scarf gave her a splash of colour as well as warmth – she was learning.
Well then, this was it, Round Two.
‘Good luck.’ Deana’s smile was warm and genuine as she knocked on the office door, opened it, and gestured for Ellie to go in. Ellie tried to look her most confident, smiling as she placed the box carefully on Lord Henry’s desk. Both he and Joe raised their eyebrows inquisitively. Joe then gave her a small grin. She felt a little flip inside. Deana said she’d be back with some tea and coffee, taking the scones back with her to plate up. The two men stood up at the same time. They were roughly the same height. Lord Henry shaking Ellie’s hand first, ‘Good morning, Ellen.’
‘Morning.’ She still didn’t have the nerve to correct him. Then she turned to Joe.
‘Welcome back,’ the younger man’s tone was warm as he took her palm in his own for a second or two, which gave her a weird, tingly feeling, probably just the nerves. ‘Did you have a good journey?’ he continued.
‘Oh, yes, fine.’ She held back a grimace; if only they could have seen her wrestling with the cake box around the corners. ‘Except for some interesting cake-balancing in the lanes at the end,’ she added, deciding to break the ice with some humour.
‘Aah, I see.’ Lord Henry smiled.
‘Hmn, I hoped there might be something along those lines in there.’ Joe was smiling too.
‘Well, I thought you might like to actually taste my work, rather than me just tell you about it.’ Cos there isn’t much to tell. ‘Give you an idea of what I might be serving in the tearooms, should I be lucky enough to obtain the lease.’
They were nodding as though that were a good idea, so Ellie warmed to her theme, ‘Well, anyone can say they’re a good cook or baker, but as my Nanna always used to say, “The proof of the pudding is in the eating”.’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Lord Henry.
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door and Deana reappeared with a tray laden with a teapot, cups and saucers, the scones piled enticingly on a plate, with a mountain of butter in a dish beside them, forks, tea plates, the works.
‘Thank you, Deana,’ Lord Henry’s tone was warm but still formal.
Ellie took this as the cue to unbox the choffee, spotting that Deana had thought to bring both a cake slice and large knife. ‘Wow!’ Deana exclaimed convincingly, despite having already seen the cake, ‘That looks amazing. You lucky devils.’ She grinned at the two men, in a show of envy.
Thank you, Deana. Ellie appreciated the support.
‘Well, I’d better be on my way. Enjoy. It looks delicious.’
Ellie sliced the cake carefully. It was deep, moist and very chocolatey. The chocolate-coffee frosting was more or less intact, as were the chocolate curls and decorations, even after the zig-zag journey. ‘Would you like to try some?’
Her hand was trembling a little as she placed a slice onto a tea plate.
‘Certainly,’ said Lord Henry. ‘Yes, please,’ Joe added.
‘Choffee cake,’ she announced, ‘A favourite family recipe.’
The ‘mmns’ that accompanied their eating cheered her, though she had no appetite and hadn’t taken any for herself, her stomach still suffering from the nerves that had gripped it for days now. Joe poured them all some tea.
The two men sat back in their chairs after polishing off the slices of choffee. Then the more intense questioning began.
‘Right then, Ellie, what do you know of the health and safety and good hygiene requirements for running a catering outlet?’ Joe. ‘And do you have the relevant certification to show for this?’
Gulp! Hold your nerve, girl.
‘What experience do you have of dealing with and managing staff?’ Lord Henry.
‘How will you keep an eye on the accounts side of the business?’ Joe.
‘Have you taken any business advice?’ Joe.
Questions were fired like bullets. She tried her best to answer honestly yet positively. It was like an interrogation, far more searching than last time, and Ellie’s initial confidence surge from the high of the cake-tasting was plummeting fast. But she did have some kind of answer for every question: the nights spent fretting had meant she’d already gone over much of this in her mind, and she’d done a lot of research in her breaks at work. Yesterday, she had also got in touch with the small business advisor at her local bank for advice. Google had helped no end, too, and what she didn’t yet have in the way of certification she’d already got her name down to take as soon as possible – her only white lie of the interview.
By the end of all the questions her head was spinning, she felt drained and was wondering once again how the hell she ever thought she could run a teashop? Having a dabble on Google, getting some advice and making a decent choffee cake didn’t amount to a lot.
The interview drew to a close after she’d had the chance to ask some questions herself. She’d remembered to ask about the terms of the lease and how that worked. How long it would be for? (One season, initially, as a trial, from Easter through to the end of October.) And she asked if there were any tearoom staff expecting to return to their jobs from last year? She’d need help with waitressing at least. There were two apparently: Doris and Nicola. Ellie thought she saw Joe’s face look a little strained as he mentioned Doris.
As they stood to shake hands, the interview drawing to a close, Ellie felt utterly exhausted.
‘Thank you for taking the time to come along today,’ Lord Henry’s words and thin smile were unreadable – Ellie reckoned he’d make a great poker player.
Joe’s dark eyes held a flicker of warmth as their hands connected in a farewell grasp. ‘The cake was delicious,’ he said encouragingly. She managed a hopeful smile back. She stared a second too long, lost to the green flecks amongst the intense deep-brown of his irises, then stood back as his grip released.
Cool, Calm, Collected – her mantra back in place. ‘Thank you very much for asking to see me again,’ she managed, ‘I look forward to hearing from you.’
Joe
Well, he hoped Lord Henry wasn’t going to be a stick-in-the-mud about this one … That cake was bloody delicious. She could cook, she seemed organised, had good ideas for the future of the business, she was intelligent, hardworking … and, she was pretty. Yes, she was attractive, wasn’t she – lovely green eyes and that honey-blonde hair piled on top of her head. He wondered what it would look like loose, how long it would be? Christ, what was the matter with him, thinking about her looks? Anyway, that was all beside the point, though being attractive would certainly help draw in the clients. Definitely be more damned appealing than that Cynthia-bloody-Bosworth